


In which Stiles doesn't know what to do with Derek's shirt

by ralf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Episode Related, Gen, Humor, Somewhat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 16:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5934787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralf/pseuds/ralf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles doesn't think much of the crumpled gray shirt he finds on the floor next to his bed. He simply shoves it in the corner to the rest of his dirty laundry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Stiles doesn't know what to do with Derek's shirt

**Author's Note:**

> In 1x09 “Wolf's Bane” Derek throws his shirt on the floor after taking it off and later he wears a different t-shirt.

Stiles doesn't think much of the crumpled gray shirt he finds on the floor next to his bed. He simply shoves it in the corner to the rest of his dirty laundry.

 

~ ~ ~

 

It seems ridiculous, but even with a people killing kanima on the loose there are stupid, manual tasks that need to be done like washing the dishes or taking out the trash or doing the laundry.

When he comes across a long-sleeved gray shirt with bloodstains down its front he tries to remember whether the last day's altercations were enough to draw blood and whether he wore a gray shirt.

Surprisingly though the answer is no on both accounts.

In fact he can't even remember ever wearing this particular shirt. Or owning it, for that matter.

The mystery is quickly solved when he remembers making Derek strip to curry favor with Danny.

Apparently Derek doesn't feel the need to clean up after himself. Stiles has half a mind to throw the shirt out but it's a good albeit bloody shirt and dumping other peoples possessions isn't something he feels comfortable doing.

Who knows how many shirts Derek owns anyway? Probably not so many. And what kind of person throws away the clothes of a homeless man? Come to think of it – where does Derek even store his spare clothes? In the ashy ruins of his childhood home? But then they'd be way dirtier, wouldn't they? More likely his fancy car then. But where the hell does he eat? Does he hunt rabbits and eat them raw? Because the Hale house doesn't look like it's got a functioning kitchen hidden somewhere and he can't really imagine Derek grilling his diner over a camping cooker.

Or is he all boy scout and lights a fire?

With his history probably not.

Stiles stares at the shirt in his hands and wonders.

Finally he decides to just wash it with the rest of the laundry to procrastinate dealing with it.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Stiles is furious with Derek for wanting to kill Lydia – a tiny part of him can understand where he is coming from, but it's _Lydia_ they are talking about, _Lydia_ – and he decides that Derek will never see his shirt again. (He doesn't even have the homeless-bonus playing for him anymore and a person that can afford living in an abandoned train car can afford a new shirt as well, at least in Stiles's book.)

 

~ ~ ~

 

So yeah, maybe Derek deserves a reward for continuously saving Stiles's life. And Scott's. _Again_.

Yes, Stiles does his fair share of lifesaving in return, but he's pretty sure they are far from being even (he lost track of those tally marks some time ago) and when Scott told him casually how he betrayed Derek to Gerard Stiles decided that a sign of good will is in order.

The shirt comes to mind. Not that Derek needs it anymore since he now has a fancy loft to match his fancy car – even though the interior design is still sadly lacking, but at least this place has an address – and may actually possess a wardrobe, but he sure as hell isn't going to buy anything for Derek. That'd be super weird.

The problem is: Returning will be super weird as well. And awkward. And embarrassing.

Like, what's he gonna open with?

“Hey Derek, here's the shirt you forgot in my room when I made you take it off and you slammed my head into the steering wheel in retaliation”?

Nope, not happening.

But just leaving it in Derek's mailbox anonymously (does he even have a mailbox? Stiles isn't sure he saw one) is pointless, too, because freaky werewolf-senses. Derek would be able to smell him.

He wonders what exactly Derek _wou_ _ld_ smell. He tried grilling Scott about it once, what he smelled like, but Scott thought about if for  roughly a second, said “can't describe it” and was done with the topic.

Maybe that way he could trick Derek into answering his question. When Derek calls him out on depositing his shirt at his loft he could be all “How did you know? What exactly did you smell? And by the way, what and how did you eat those first few weeks in Beacon Hills? I bet you didn't buy groceries at the local supermarket, you couldn't risk bumping into one of us and ruining your creeper-image.”

Tempting as it may be... nope, not happening either.

Stiles sighs and decides to show his good will by thanking Derek the next time he saves his life. Considering the lives they are currently living he won't have to wait very long for that to happen.

 

~ ~ ~

 

It's taken Stiles an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that if he still has Derek's shirt Derek too still has his shirt. (Unless he sneaked into Stiles's room to return it, but Stiles double checked his wardrobe.)

The thought stays stuck in his head. He can't help wondering if his shirt is currently wedged in between Derek's, blending into Derek's clothes, or if it is lying in a dark corner for Derek to figure out what do to about it.

(Stiles put Derek's shirt in the drawer of his socks so he doesn't accidentally wear it – it's not an uncommon thing for him to throw on the first thing he grabs out of his closet in his haste to get someplace or another – and even though the shirt was in the wash he's not sure if freaky werewolf-senses wouldn't still be able to detect traces of Derek on it, and wouldn't that be a great conversation to have with Scott?)

For a moment he speculates whether Derek dared to throw his shirt away – and yeah, maybe it wasn't the greatest shirt in the history of shirts, just a plain grey thing, but he'd still be pissed – but he can't imagine Derek would do that. Who saves your life repeatedly and then trashes your clothes? That makes no sense.

But then again, _Derek_ makes no sense. Always so quick with death threats and always saving lives.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Curiosity, Stiles figures, will be the death of him. Because only a death wish could explain why he is currently breaking into Derek's loft (wearing Derek's shirt to cover up his scent the best he can) looking for his shirt.

It is a legitimate cause, he reasons, since he is only going to retrieve what is rightfully his and Derek never bothers locking his living spaces, he's more or less inviting burglars in.

Stiles is not stupid, he made sure Derek isn't home (otherwise he wouldn't even be able to drive by the block without being noticed) and starts hunting down his shirt.

He wonders what state it will be in if he finds it. Bloodied and torn to pieces, like probably half of Derek's clothes seem to end up. Somehow he can't imagine it lying peacefully in a drawer, washed and folded, waiting to be returned to its owner, and only partly because he deems Derek not thoughtful enough to think of washing borrowed clothes, but also because he can't picture Derek handling a washing machine.

Like, does his creepy shady building even have a washkitchen? Stiles doubts it. Where does Derek wash _his_ dirty laundry? Does he go on a weekly trip to the laundromat, staring grumpily into the swirling gray and black of his henleys for two hours? The thought is absurd, but so is Derek with his illogical loft. His bedroom is basically his hallway. Stiles thinks one can count it as a win that at least the bathroom is separate from the rest.

While thinking about Derek and his peculiar life choices, Stiles rummaged through the living room/bedroom/study/kitchen that is Derek's loft, but his shirt is still nowhere in sight. Huh.

Stiles's gaze goes to the spiral staircase. He hesitates for a barely-there second, but the fact that he's never been upstairs coupled with his shaky excuse for searching Derek's loft is reason enough to justify violating Derek's privacy.

Especially since the guy himself has no respect whatsoever for other people's privacy. So it's like payback for that time he broke into Stiles's house and bedroom.

He climbs the stairs and finds himself in a short hallway with three doors.

He opens the first one on the right. A utility closet containing a vacuum cleaner, broom, scrubber, sponge and a few cleaning agents.

Stiles stifles a laugh at the mental image of Derek scrubbing the floors, trying to rid it of bloodstains from a previous fight to avoid his landlord's wrath.

He closes the closet and turns to the next door but he's barely entered the room before he is slammed violently into a nearby cupboard.

Stiles groans. That hurt.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Derek asks, giving him another shove for emphasis.

O-oh.

“Oh, hi, Derek, didn't expect you to come home early.”

He tries to escape Derek's grip and Derek unexpectedly lets him go, but only enough to turn around.

Derek looks his usual grumpy self, but Stiles is more interested in the room behind him, since he didn't get a good look at it before Derek appeared.

It's stuffed with boxes (unlabeled, Stiles notes disappointedly) and crammed with all the furniture that is absent in the rest of the loft: a few shelves, two dressers, chairs.. and a huge closet made of very firm wood, as his smarting face can attest.

Derek raises his eyebrows to say 'well, your explanation?'

“See, I didn't want to bother you so I thought I'd just drop by and, you know, fetch my shirt.”

Derek frowns. “Your shirt.”

“Yeah, the one you borrowed and never bothered to return.”

First Derek's frown intensifies, then his face lights up in understanding, then he frowns again.

“You couldn't just ask for it?”

Before Stiles can come up with an excuse, Derek heaves a sigh and stalks over to one of the dressers, opens a drawer and pulls Stiles's shirt out.

He returns to Stiles, who is still crowded against the closet and shoves the shirt into his chest. “There. Now go.”

Stiles hurriedly does as he's told and bolts from the room, glad he managed an interaction with Derek without acquiring overly lasting injuries.

 

~ ~ ~

 

A week later Stiles climbs the stairs to his room, pleasantly wrung out from an afternoon of lacrosse practice with Scott.

He kicks his door open and nearly has a heart attack when he spots Derek, lazily browsing through his drawers.

“What the hell are you _doing_?” Stiles blurts, half angry and half still suffering from shock.

Derek turns around slowly and even though he obviously tries to keep a straight face there is a definite smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, you're home early. Well, don't mind me, I'm just looking for my shirt.”

 

 

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a few phrasings in this one that I'm not too sure of since I'm not a native speaker and dictionaries can only do so much, so if anything strikes you as odd, feel free to point it out, please.


End file.
